


All Slut, No Shame

by midnightstreet



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Aftercare, Begging, David Rose Loves Patrick Brewer, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Kink Exploration, M/M, PWP, Patrick Brewer is a Cockslut, Sex Toys, Thirsty Bottom Patrick Brewer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27931669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightstreet/pseuds/midnightstreet
Summary: “It’s just. I know that’s kind of a...loaded term. And I would never,” Patrick adds urgently, “use that to refer to someone. Well, other than myself, I guess?” He huffs out a little chuckle. “But…”“But you want to be a slut for me. And I want to give you what you want. Turn over, honey, that’s it. Let me take care of you.”Patrick learns that being called a slut isn't necessarily a bad thing.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 30
Kudos: 179
Collections: Numerous OTPS Infinite Fandoms





	All Slut, No Shame

**Author's Note:**

  * For [schittyfic (sixtysevenlmpala)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixtysevenlmpala/gifts).



> Thank you to my superstar beta/frustrated gerund-wrangler, [EggplantSalad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EggplantSalad/pseuds/EggplantSalad), and to [schittyfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixtysevenlmpala/pseuds/schittyfic), whose enthusiasm was absolutely invaluable in my moments of doubt. In the end, this is for her.
> 
> Takes place mid-season 5.

David’s boyfriend is. Well. Sometimes ‘slut’ is definitely the right word.

Patrick just…god, he takes cock _so beautifully_. He’ll open on three of David’s fingers, demanding more in no time. From there, it’s only a matter of minutes before he’s asking — _begging_ — for David’s dick, not caring one bit how wanton he sounds. When Patrick gets like this, David’s dick gets so hard, so desperate to get inside Patrick he can barely stand it. But David has never been so out of it with lust that he’s ignored thorough prep (unless it’s been pre-negotiated), so he just has to tell his dick to behave.

Patrick has to be told to behave, too.

When Patrick gets like this, all he wants is _more_ and _harder_ and _faster_. Being very much the wrong side of 30, David sometimes has trouble — though he’d never actually admit it out loud — keeping up with. Uh. Demand. (They now own quite a diverse collection of cock rings.)

Stupid Stevie and her erectile dysfunction jokes. She’s clearly gotten in his head.

Fortunately, Patrick is just as happy to get fucked by silicone — or glass, or metal — as by a real dick. David has lost track of the number of times he’s arrived home to find his boyfriend rocking himself onto a toy, sweating and babbling. Sometimes Patrick is on his back with his legs in the air, tendons in his arms straining. Sometimes he’s squatting on the bedroom floor, balancing himself on the chest where David’s best sweaters have now taken up residence, riding a toy firmly attached to the hardwood. Other times he’s bent over in the shower, steaming water sluicing over his broad back while he fucks himself back onto a dildo suction-cupped to the wall. It’s truly a sight to behold, and David is never jealous or upset, only delighted to see his boyfriend enjoying himself.

This time, though. This time is different, because Patrick has gone beyond frantic. After two years together, David doesn’t think he’s ever seen Patrick quite _this_ thirsty for it. 

And this is the day. The day when Patrick finally says the word — the word that’s been floating in David’s head, forbidden from ever passing his lips — for the first time.

“Fuck, David. Yeah. God, I’m such a slut for you. Give it to—”

Patrick freezes.

David knows right away what’s wrong. He pulls his fingers out, and Patrick turns over from where he’d been on his hands and knees, ass in the air, to look David in the eye. “Umm.”

The moment hangs in the air.

“So. That’s a thing you just said.”

In all their time together, Patrick has never called himself that; has never even _uttered the word_ , actually, in _any_ context. David can see the wheels turning in Patrick’s head. He knows exactly the rabbit hole Patrick is going to go down, and jumps in to stop him.

“No, nope, nuh uh. Look at me.”

Patrick looks down and away.

“Please don’t do that, honey. It’s fine. I know what you’re thinking. We can talk about it later, if you want, but for now…”

Patrick lifts his chin up, looking hopeful.

“You wanna be a slut?” 

Patrick bites his lip.

“It’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with that. If I’m uncomfortable with something, I’ll let you know. But you’ll get no judgement from me.”

The tension seeps right out of Patrick’s shoulders. He reaches up to pull David into a hug, tucking his face into his favorite spot, nestled in David’s neck.

“It’s just. I know that’s kind of a...loaded term. And I would _never_ ,” Patrick adds urgently, “use that to refer to someone. Well, other than myself, I guess?” He huffs out a little chuckle. “But…”

“But you want to be a slut for me. And I want to give you what you want. Turn over, honey, that’s it. Let me take care of you.”

Patrick’s blush extends halfway down his chest. He squeezes his eyes closed and takes a few deep breaths, flipping back over without looking at David. His head is bent in a pose that’s deliciously submissive.

David gets a finger in Patrick again, working quickly back up to two, then three, twisting and gently stretching. Patrick doesn’t hesitate to fuck back against them.

Despite Patrick doing a lot of the work, though, after a few minutes, David finds he needs to give his cramping fingers and tired wrist a break. He’s barely had time to shake his hand out when he’s treated to the image of Patrick working his own fingers into himself, as though he can’t stand to be without something filling his ass for even a moment.

And god, but Patrick is mewling so pitifully, David feels sorry for him. He knows that feeling, where the sensation is too much but _not fucking enough_ and it feels like you’re losing your mind.

“It’s okay, honey, I’m here. Touch your cock, that’s it.” Patrick widens his stance even further, his chest pressed to the bed, propped up on his knees while one hand strips his dick almost brutally, three fingers of the other now working their way into his ass. 

And then David sees the twitch.

Patrick’s pinky wants in on the action.

_Fuck._

As David inches back to watch the utterly filthy show Patrick is giving him, his foot slips, big toe hitting...oh.

David has an idea.

He scrambles to the end of the bed, throwing the lid of the chest open with such force that it falls back on his wrists. He’s so determined that he doesn’t even yank his arms back, looking up to watch as Patrick’s fingers twist and scissor in his own gaping hole. Propping the lid of the chest open with his shoulder, David throws layers of sweaters out onto the floor without even stopping to worry about their fate, frantic to reach the wide, flat box of their best toys hidden at the bottom. Finally throwing it open and plucking out the slimmest one, David barely pulls his shoulder out of the way in time to slam the chest closed again. When he looks back up—

Fuck.

Patrick, that horny little fucker, has managed to get his pinky inside himself while David was distracted. Lube is dripping all over his balls, his wrist, and the bed underneath.

Yeah, he’s definitely going to want what David has for him.

David scrambles up, struggling as his toes slide through soft cashmere and mohair and merino underfoot. Finally regaining his balance, he stops to watch again. When he can’t stand to wait any longer, he leans down to kiss Patrick’s heel, his calf, the curve of his ass. His hand slides from Patrick’s elbow down to his wet fingers.

“I’m here, I’ve got you. Pull out, come on.”

Patrick whimpers pitifully. David rubs at his wrist, coaxing his fingers out of his ass.

“I’ve got what you need. Trust me.”

Patrick finally withdraws his hand, making possibly the saddest sound David has ever heard. He drapes himself over Patrick’s back, guiding his cock into that deliciously slick hole. 

There’s absolutely no resistance.

David immediately picks up his pace. The whining and whimpering is so pathetic, so desperate, David has to reach down and squeeze the base of his cock.

“Okay, none of that. _Listen to me._ Are you listening?”

“David, _please_.”

God, his boyfriend really is a slut. David can definitely get into this.

“You’re such a slut, baby. Your hole is taking my fat cock and it still wants more, doesn’t it?” 

And thank god for pump bottles of lube: David slows his thrusting, slathering the fingers of his right hand with slick while rubbing soothingly at Patrick’s lower back. He squeezes the tip of his index finger in alongside his cock and braces himself for the reaction.

“ _FUCK!_ Holy fuck, are...is that?”

“Mmhmm. How do you feel?” Patrick has had four of David’s fingers in him plenty of times — and, on one memorable occasion, two of David’s and two of his own, twining together inside him — but this particular combination is new. David wiggles his fingertip around as he thrusts, slow and steady, into Patrick’s swollen hole.

“I...I… _hnnngh_ it’s so good, baby. It’s incredible. Shit.”

“You’re such a cockslut, you just want more stuffed in there. I bet you’d take another dick if you could.”

Patrick stills from where he’d started rocking back. For a moment, David wonders if he’s gone too far. But after a few heartbeats he hears it, barely a whisper.

“Yes.”

David has to pull his finger out, which Patrick is obviously not happy about, but it’s worth it to be able to kiss up the knobs of his spine to the base of his neck and nuzzle there for a few beats. He brushes the pink tip of Patrick’s ear with his lips and whispers: “I want you to have that. Want you to have anything you want.”

He peels himself off, leaning backward and groping around for...yes, there it is.

“Look what I’ve got for you, sweetheart.”

David waves the hot pink toy in front of Patrick. It prompts an immediate response: Patrick knows where David is going with this, and is absolutely prepared to beg.

Well, more than he’d already _been_ begging, anyway.

“Oh my god, yes, I want it, please, I’ll do anything.”

“Mm, will you, though?” David is tempted to elicit a promise that Patrick will do the sweeping at the store for the next month.

“Yes, David, _god_ , please put it in. I… _fuck_ , I need it.”

“Nope, not yet. Soon, I promise. You’re not open enough yet.”

“No, I am, I am, I want it, I can take it.”

“You most certainly cannot. Not if you ever want to be able to sit down again, sweetheart. And I love this ass too much to cause it any real harm.” 

David drops the dildo in front of Patrick, a tease and a promise. His thumbs return to the small of Patrick’s back, stroking little circles. David is sweating at the temples as he focuses, trying to hold Patrick’s hips in place to keep him from hurting himself. Once Patrick proves he can hold still on his own, David gets another pump of lube and works his finger back in. Patrick tries to rock back, but a little spank to the meat of an ass cheek with David’s left hand reminds him to be good.

Eventually David deems him ready for his reward. He pulls his finger out and squirts a ridiculous amount of lube onto it and his second finger. 

“Here we go, bear down.” Halting his thrusts again, he leaves just the head of his dick inside Patrick, then wedges the tips of his two fingers in beside it and slides slowly forward, a millimeter at a time.

Suddenly, Patrick makes a noise that sounds just a little too far over that line between pleasure and pain. David forces himself to pause and check in. “Baby? I need a color.”

“ _GREEN!_ ”

“Mm, not sure I heard that. What did you say?”

Patrick shoots David a death glare over his shoulder. 

“Hey, none of your sass.” Another spank and Patrick bucks forward, snaking a hand under himself to rub at his cock, his balls, then back further until David can see his fingertips creeping toward his hole, feeling out the new shape of his rim. 

“Oh my god, I can’t beli—” Patrick sounds like the wind has been knocked out of him. He gropes around some more, fingers sliding up and down, left and right, panting harshly.

David’s face burns from the obscene picture this is making: Patrick’s rim so stretched and red, shiny with lube, taking two fingers and a dick while more fingers stroke around it. Fuck, he’s not going to make it to putting the dildo in Patrick at this rate. He resorts to thinking about the proliferation of poly-cotton blends to stave off orgasm, then takes a deep breath and gets back to it. David glances at the small clock on Patrick’s desk and allows himself two more minutes of torturing them both.

The second the time is up, David gropes around for the lube one more time. When he’s done coating the dildo, the bed soaked from where he’d spilled everywhere in his haste, he throws the bottle to the floor. He places a bracing hand on Patrick’s lower back and stills his own thrusts into that sloppy ass.

“Hold still, that’s it. Here we go.”

Patrick is gasping again, clawing his way up until his fingers find and throw aside one of the pillows.

“Fuck me, fuck me, _fuck me_ , please David, wanna be your slut, need it so bad.”

David pauses his thrusts just long enough to nudge the dripping dildo into Patrick’s hole alongside his cock. He pushes it forward, watching the red, puffy rim struggle, then give, allowing the dildo inside. On the second stroke of the toy, he thrusts his cock back in with it. Patrick grasps the rails of the headboard and _screams_. David’s train of thought isn’t even out of the station before it’s cut off.

“If you say ‘color’ I will murder you. _Keep. Going._ ”

Patrick bounces that delicious ass back, impatient for David to develop a rhythm. David decides to hold the dildo steady and let Patrick fuck back on the combined girth of it and David’s cock.

The noise Patrick makes can only be described as a sob.

“David, please, god I’m such a slut, I need it, yeah, fuck me, make it hurt, _please_ , I’ll do anything.”

Holy _shit_.

This is easily the most desperate David has ever seen his boyfriend.

And that’s saying something.

“What a cockslut, taking two dicks in your hole at once. Jesus, what a beautiful little whore you are.”

David grasps the end of the dildo as firmly as he can, thumb and forefinger slipping in the copious amount of lube and just barely hanging on. He gets his knees under himself, slamming both the toy and his dick home with such force that his knees skid back.

The cries torn from Patrick make the friction burns more than worth it.

He’s openly sobbing now, with actual tears streaming down his face. “DavidDavidDavid _David_ , oh god, so good, it’s so good. Fuck my hole. Yeah, fuck it fuck it _FUCK_.”

Patrick stills suddenly from where he had been pistoning back. David is so overwhelmed it takes him a few seconds to realize his boyfriend has come _untouched_. He removes the dildo slowly before tossing it aside, giving in to the frenzied need to come. He has just enough presence of mind to watch for any signs of Patrick’s discomfort, waiting for the signal that he can’t take anymore.

It doesn’t come.

Not only is he showing no signs of discomfort, Patrick has actually shoved the rest of the pillows out of the way, dropping his cheek to the bed and reaching back with — Jesus _fucking_ Christ — _both hands_ , to hold himself open to David as he gets pounded.

“Come in me. I want it. I need you to fill me up. Want your come, baby.”

And holy _fuck_ , the combination of Patrick’s words and the way he holds himself open obscenely to David’s gaze nudges him into a frenzy, scrambling his brains until he barely remembers Patrick is a precious thing that needs to be taken care of. He grips Patrick’s hips hard enough to bruise that beautiful pale skin and just...goes for it, pounding away until the wave inside him crests and crashes over violently. 

David swears his heart skips several beats as he pumps into Patrick, who mewls pathetically beneath him and slumps down. He pulls out for the last few pulses, spilling into the small of Patrick’s back. His hand comes up without his permission to rub his release into Patrick’s skin, thumb sliding his spunk down to that still-gaping hole and shoving it in.

“Mm, no, yellow, ‘m done. I’m sorry.”

David pulls away slowly, leaning over to press a kiss to the side of Patrick’s neck. “Shh, don’t apologize, honey, you did so well. Can you turn over for me?”

It takes a bit, but Patrick eventually nods, still face-down on the bed, and takes several deep breaths before squirming around onto his back. “David,” he whines, reaching his hands up, asking for his boyfriend to come hold him.

“Oh sweetheart, you were amazing. Here, just...yeah, scoot over a little. So good. You’re so beautiful.”

Patrick lets his head be pulled onto David’s chest, his boyfriend’s hand running through his sweaty hair. After a long minute, he croaks out, “Water?”

David sits up as much as he can without dislodging Patrick’s head and reaches for the water bottle he’d placed on the nightstand earlier. Patrick takes such large gulps that David has to pull it away and remind him to slow down so he doesn’t choke.

“Mm. Y’take such good care’a me.” Patrick puckers his lips, reaching up as much as his weak neck will allow. David ducks down to meet him.

After a minute or five spent waiting for them both to stop panting and shaking, David makes to pull away. Patrick whines for him, but is placated with a scritch of nails through his hair and a kiss to his forehead. Once he gets his feet under him, David plucks one of the fallen pillows from the floor. He’s trying to coax it under Patrick’s head, but Patrick has other ideas, making grabby hands and clutching it to his chest instead, cuddling it as he would David.

David heads to the bathroom for a washcloth, returning to wipe the mess off Patrick’s stomach before giving tender attention to his poor hole. He can’t tear his eyes away as it gives a weak little flutter before clenching as best it can. After that, it takes gentle kisses and caresses; murmurs of praise to get Patrick roll to the side while David puts a towel over the wet spot, knowing Patrick won’t have the energy to get out of the bed just yet.

Finally, David has just enough energy to lie back down as the adrenaline crashes and exhaustion creeps in. Patrick rolls into him, resting his head in the hollow of David’s shoulder. David strokes the naked skin of his back, making little figure-eights and spelling out nonsense words until he feels Patrick's lips start to move against his chest.

“Do you...should we talk about this?” He sounds uncertain.

David’s fingers continue their meandering movements on Patrick’s skin while he thinks about the best way to respond; to reassure Patrick that they’re fine and that David isn’t tamping down some kind of feelings that will fester and become An Issue.

“Do I want to pick apart where that came from and what else might be buried in your psyche so we can analyze it to death? Hard pass. Do I want to have a conversation about what turns you on and how you feel about those things, and how I can help make them happen for you if you decide you want to share them with me? When you’re ready, I would love to.”

Patrick’s shoulders sag in relief, and David shivers as a sweet sigh gusts over his nipple. Patrick appears to be working up to saying something, but after a minute, what finally comes out is simply, “Thank you.”

Through his chest hair, David is sure he can feel Patrick’s lips curl into a smile.


End file.
